


Pictures Of You

by Baamon5evr



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Is a Good Bro, F/M, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Memory Loss, Memory Tampering, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha-centric, Panic Attacks, Past Brainwashing, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baamon5evr/pseuds/Baamon5evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay, now you want to tell me what that crazy talk was about earlier? And don't tell me you were delirious, Barnes means something to you so tell me what about him has got you so shook up. And who's James?" Natasha took a deep breath, knowing once these words were out it made the situation a reality but then it was always a reality. James had been living in hell long before she stepped into this museum, hell long before she ever met him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pictures Of You

 

When Steve extended the invitation to all the Avengers to attend the grand opening of the Captain America Smithsonian exhibit Natasha didn't even want to go in the first place. Maria was off on a mission in Russia and Natasha was feeling a little homesick.

Okay, even in her head that bold faced lie sounded ridiculous. Really she just didn't want to be there. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that nothing good would come from going to the museum. DC always made her uneasy anyway, everything was always a front for something else, every move a power move, every action and inaction was questionable and likely attached to an agenda. Natasha was made for this environment but it could become exhausting after a while. However, Steve had looked like a kicked puppy when she said she was considering not going and Clint had convinced her that she was going to be saving him from infinite boredom so she got dressed in a green gown and walked into the museum on Clint's arm.

The place was huge and the spy in her weighed the difficulty of trying to secure a place this massive until Clint shoved a champagne flute in her hands and ordered her to drink. She raised an eyebrow at his demanding tone but ultimately drank it as they arrived to the exhibit. The first thing they saw was a painting of Steve in his Captain America suit saluting with the American flag and a bald eagle in the background and either the Constitution or the Bill of Rights written out artfully on a wall. It wasn't bad, perhaps laying on the patriotism a bit thick but not a bad painting. She discovered that Steve wasn't as boy scout as the stories made him out to be. He was a good man if a bit idealistic but he wasn't an idiot and she could appreciate that even if the type of person he was at his core was the antithesis of what she was and the life she led.

The second thing they saw gave her pause. It was a mural of the Howling Commandos with their uniforms encased in glass before their faces, it actually looked quite well done. That wasn't what made her stop, it was the face on Steve's left side that did that. He looked familiar to her. His face nudged at something in the back of her mind, something that had been buried and then resurfaced with water damage and fraying edges that made it difficult to decipher. She usually got that feeling when old memories that the Red Room tried to wipe away or change resurfaced but why on earth would she feel familiarity with Steve's dead friend? Clint's vibrating phone snapped her out of her reverie.

"That's Laura. I'll be back."

"Say hi for me." Natasha called after him as he walked off.

When she turned she caught sight of Steve with his back to her standing before the tall picture of a dark haired man, the same one that made her stop earlier. The feeling she knew him only grew the longer she stared at his face. She unknowingly drifted towards the display until she was standing next to Steve. It was stupid to allow herself to be anything but mentally sharp. With this many high profile people in one place she should be on guard at all times. Fury would give her the eyebrow of doom (as Clint called it) if he could see her now. Actually, he probably can see her and that was too comforting a thought as she tried to push away the memories of an older man's hands on her body. Not in a way to harm or use but in a way to comfort much like Fury's arm on her back as the memories broke her down so much physically she couldn't keep down any solid foods.

"He was my best friend." Steve said suddenly, his voice heavy with grief.

"He was the only one who died while I was still alive back then. He fell from a train. I wasn't fast enough to catch him." Natasha could hear the self-blame in Steve's voice but she knew what it was like to truly take another's life and not just because you're fighting a war. She knew what it was to kill people in their beds while pretending not to know that their children were hiding in the closet. She knew Steve, not as well as some but well enough to know he did all he could. That's who he was and she tells him as much.

"It wasn't enough. Bucky was always there for me, always protecting me and I couldn't do the same. He didn't even want me to join the army and now I know it's because he wanted to protect me, even when I didn't want him to. He protected all his siblings, me and his sisters Evie, Rose and Becca. I haven't even been to see them, I don't even know if they're still alive." Natasha wasn't sure how to comfort him, it wasn't her forte. She could pretend. One of her aliases, Nataleen Simpson, was a comforting soul. She had to be if she wanted to give off the image of a mild mannered babysitter while she plotted the woman of the house's death but she respected Steve enough not to play a role here so she did the next best thing.

"So, Bucky huh? Doesn't really strike me as a common 20th century name. Then again, I'm not as caught up on history as I should be so there's one thing we have in common." Steve chuckled a little so she counted that as a victory.

"It's a nickname his older sister, Evelyn, gave him because he hated his real name, said it sounded too formal. His name was actually James. James Buchanan Barnes." Natasha felt like she was suddenly thrown back to the past. To traded blows in the red room, to secret kisses in locker rooms, to clandestine rendezvous at her apartment, to his cold metal arm wrapped around her, to his breathe against her ear saying her real name in a way that sent shivers down her spine, to the look on his face when she told him she thought she loved him, to the memories he whispered to her about that he dared not voice elsewhere.

_'I think I had a sister, maybe more than one. I'm not sure.'_

_'Maybe I grew up in a city but it doesn't seem Russian.'_

_'There's a man named Steve. I'm not certain but I think he is my brother, or we were as close as brothers.'_

_'I remember fighting but it wasn't... I wasn't me. I was a soldier, an ordinary soldier. I was afraid but happy because someone wasn't there, didn't have to be there.'_

_'My name is James. I'm sure of it but you can't tell anyone. No one can know Natalia, no one but you.'_

Natasha gasped as pain pricked her fingers only for her to realize she squeezed her champagne flute so tight it shattered in her hand and glass was sticking into the flesh.

"Natasha, are you okay?" She distantly heard Steve ask with concern. She didn't answer, her thoughts were too scrambled.

It couldn't be. It wasn't possible but it was too much of a coincidence. She hadn't remembered James' face for a long time and It was one of the things she most loathed her former handlers for. Sure she felt love was for children and she stood by that belief but that didn't mean she didn't want to remember the experience in its entirety. She remembered the feelings quickly enough but his face evaded her mind and now seeing him and having his name attached to a dead war hero's face with Steve standing next to her and --

_'Do you think your brother, this Steve, would like me?'_

_'I get the feeling he would like you very much.'_

It was too much.

She hadn't had a panic attack since the last time she saw James in Odessa when he shot her through the stomach in order to kill their target. He was wearing a mask that obscured his face but the metal arm and his eyes, a dead gray giving the telltale sign of just how recently they took him out of cryo, was enough for her to know it was him. She had ended up freaking out once her body ran out of adrenaline and she ran to one of her safe houses to calm down. She wasn't foolish enough to go to one Fury and Clint didn't know about and after two weeks Clint came to get her and then it was right back to business as if she'd never seen James in the first place and now here she was again getting lightheaded because this just wasn't possible. She had enough guilt to last a century regarding him without now finding out he wasn't just grown in a lab, he was technically a prisoner of war and she was here befriending and fighting alongside his brother -- ' _I remember Steve never saw a fight he could walk away from, the stubborn punk'_ \-- while James was on the other side and she could not breathe.

She felt familiar hands on her back guiding her away from the exhibit towards the bathroom. Once Natasha and Clint burst in she went straight to the sink, gripping the edge and ignoring the pain that flared in her right hand as her grip pushed the glass in deeper while trying to gain control of her breathing. Clint turned on the pipe and stuck her hand under it while he picked out the pieces of glass that weren't too small to see. It didn't matter, thanks to the serum her Red Room handlers had given her her hand would be healed within two days at most. Soon after Clint let go of her hand she felt a wet paper towel being pressed to her forehead.

"Okay, wanna tell me what's so panic inducing about Cap's dead bestie?"

"He's not... he's... I can't breathe."

"Getting that." Clint quipped. Natasha gestured towards the laced up back of her dress and he quickly unlaced the strings causing her to gasp as air rushed into her lungs. He rubbed her back and continued dabbing her forehead as her breathing slowly returned to normal. When she finally could think straight again she switched off the water, turned and perched herself on the edge of the sink without care if her dress got wet. Clint stepped out and then came back with a mini bottle of water a minute later. She drank some of the water gratefully, feeling Clint's eyes on her the whole time. She put the bottle down on the sink next to her and didn't speak or offer an explanation but of course he wouldn't drop it and she already knew when he asked she wasn't going to lie, not to Clint and not about this. She didn't think she could handle that weight by herself.

"Rogers told me Barnes was a real ladies' man back in the day. Guy must be legendary if he can take your breath away even in death." Natasha started chuckling softly but once she started laughing she couldn't stop herself and soon she was almost breathless with laughter. Really she was laughing so she wouldn't start crying and she'd be damned if she did that, even in front of Clint.

"O-kay... I know I'm great and all but that joke wasn't that funny."

"It's not the joke. It's this. It's... Bucky Barnes. I mean, Bucky? Really? Greatest assassin in the world and his name is Bucky? On Russia's side in the Cold War and his brother is Captain America. He's from friggin' Brooklyn. I mean, seriously? You are not funny, James." Natasha babbled through bouts of giggles. Somewhere she registered that she was probably in shock and she probably looked crazy but apparently her life was a circus act, so why not laugh about the ridiculousness of it all?

"Wait, what the hell are talking about? Bucky Barnes is dead." Clint said in confusion.

"No, he isn't."

"Explain." She could hear the seriousness is his voice but she was still laughing a little.

"It's him."

"Him who?"

"James."

"Nat, who the hell is James? You just told me Cap's best friend, whose been dead for 70 years, isn't dead so snap out of it and explain."

"I can't stop laughing." She was sure she sounded hysterical.

"Why?" Clint asked, stepping close to her.

"Because I don't want to cry. If I start crying I don't know if I'll stop." Clint placed his hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

"Look at me, Nat." Natasha reluctantly dragged her eyes up to Clint's eyes and let him coach her breathing.

"Just like that, come on. You're a badass, you've got this. I'll take you for Chinese food after this. That's it, keep breathing." He told her, comforting her in his special way that did its job and soon she felt like she was reaching equilibrium again and she wasn't stuck between laughing and crying anymore. She sighed and leaned against him heavily for a second before pulling back and leaning against the sink again. He stayed standing in front of her and grabbed one of her hands in his so he could anchor her. She really didn't deserve a friend like him but he would hit her upside the head if she said that and revoke her coffee privileges for a week so she said nothing.

"Okay, now you want to tell me what that crazy talk is about? And don't tell me you're just delirious, Barnes means something to you so tell me what about him has got you so shook up. And who's James?" Natasha took a deep breath, knowing once these words were out it made the situation a reality but then it was always a reality. James had been living in hell long before she stepped into this museum, hell long before she ever met him.

"James is the Winter Soldier's name." She said, starting off small.

"The Wint-- your amnesiac ex-boyfriend who shot you in Odessa?" Natasha didn't correct the term 'ex-boyfriend', she didn't have the time to explain she and James' complicated relationship.

"The one and the same."

"What does he have to do with Bucky Barnes?"

"He is Bucky Barnes." Natasha said. Clint stared at her like she had two heads.

"Wait... what?"

"When I saw Bucky's pictures I saw flashes of memories in my head, mostly sensations. Then Steve told me that Bucky's real name was James and it was like he flicked a light on in my head. I couldn't remember The Winter Soldier's face before and then I could and... Bucky is The Winter Soldier."

"How do you know you aren't just projecting Barnes' face on lost memories?"

"James told me he had a brother named Steve, that he thought he had a sister -- maybe more than one, that he remembered growing up in a city but that it didn't look Russian, that he was a soldier and that he remembered being glad someone wasn't in the war. Steve told me Bucky didn't want him joining the army, he had three sisters, he and Steve were as close as brothers, he grew up in Brooklyn. All of those things can't be coincidences. These memories, they don't feel like the ones the Red Room fabricated. I know they're real, Clint. James, Bucky, The Winter Soldier they're all the same person. In a manner of speaking anyway."

"What do you mean 'in a manner of speaking'?"

"I knew James over the course of decades and in that time his memories of Bucky Barnes were sparse and spread out over years and whatever he remembered was soon wiped out of him anyway. I doubt he remembers any of his life before and at this point the amount of neurological damage--"

"There's a good chance he'd never recover those memories, or most of them anyway." Clint cut in.

"How is that fair to Steve? To tell him Bucky's alive but not really." Clint raised an eyebrow.

"You telling me or asking me?" Natasha flickered her eyes to him before looking away.

"I don't know Bucky and I don't know James, you and Steve do. I can't make this decision for you, all I can do is state the facts." Clint replied when she said nothing for a long while.

"The facts?"

"Fact: for however much you believe love is for children you loved the Winter Soldier or whatever your equivalent of love is. Fact: half the time the guy doesn't even remember who you are. Fact: he just barely remembered Steve once upon a time. Fact: last time he saw you he put a bullet through you. Fact: to the rest of the world Bucky Barnes died a war hero when he fell off that train. You go telling everyone that he's actually been living, and I use the term living very loosely here, as a Russian assassin then who knows what happens? A shit ton of world governments try to put him on trial for war crimes, multiple shadier agencies will be out to get him and your own past will be dragged out in front of the public. But of course there is always the chance that you and Steve team up and you do manage to find him. Then again, who knows who you'll find? It's a long, gritty 7 decades between Bucky and The Winter Soldier but Steve's a stubborn guy and he has the advantage of knowing Barnes when he was still Bucky, he could draw him out in a way you can't just like you could draw out James in a way Steve can't. Together you might be able to restore some semblance of sanity and reasoning into him, _might_. Ultimately? It's up to you." Natasha stayed silent for a minute before Clint sighed.

"You don't have to decide now."

"Every minute I don't is one more minute James is suffering."

"But at the end of all this you still want Steve's... acceptance if not approval." Natasha scoffed.

"I don't need _Captain America's_ acceptance or approval."

"Captain America? To hell with Captain America, I mean Steve Rogers. He's isn't a saint but he's damn well close enough. He's the only one of us without red in his ledger so if he gives us acceptance it means that all this work we've done to at least balance our checkbooks hasn't been for nothing but if he finds out about Bucky and how unbalanced his checkbook is who knows what he'll be willing to compromise with."

"That's not Steve, he'd stop Bucky... _James_ before he'd let him keep killing. Besides, compromising Steve's values isn't enough of a reason to keep this secret."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

"Because I'm..." Natasha trailed off but Clint knew her well enough to hear the concealed fear in her voice.

"Nat..."

"It isn't about me. I mean it is but... what if Steve and I go after him and he's neither Bucky nor James and we have to kill him to stop him? I can do it, I know I can. Physically it'd be easy to stare James in the eyes and put a bullet through his head, maybe it'd even be the merciful thing to do. But if I did it, and yes it'd be me because Steve wouldn't be able to, I'd never wipe that out. There'd be no balancing that and I don't know if I could deal with the after. Even when we weren't together I knew James was alive somewhere and I've held on to that, it's been enough for me for a long time. It's not fair to either of them but I need time, I need to think this through." Clint nodded before pulling her into a hug and she let him but she didn't think she deserved comfort. James wasn't comfortable, Steve wasn't comfortable and now that was on her.

Months later, she still thought of it everyday but never knew when she should tell Steve. She didn't want to say anything while he was grieving and depressed because that seemed like kicking him when he was down. Every time she got ready to tell him she found him frowny faced with sad eyes so instead of telling him the truth she'd turn the conversation into something else. She took it upon herself to show him the good parts of the future, movies she liked and foods she enjoyed, art exhibits and theme parks and concerts and even a ballet show one time. Steve seemed to enjoy it all and Natasha enjoyed spending time with him. They both lived in DC, Natasha more because Fury needed her close than because she wanted to, and it wasn't like Steve had a wealth of friends to hang out with so spending time with him was no burden.

She'd try to tell him about Bucky when he was in a good mood but then she didn't want to ruin it so she'd turn the conversation into an impromptu matchmaking session, trying to pair him with every woman she could think of with as much tact and care towards his past with Peggy Carter as she could manage. She wanted him to have some kind of connection that could be a cushion should things hit the fan and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore.

She definitely couldn't tell him when she happened upon him flirting with Sam Wilson. He seemed happier than he had in ages, he was actually _grinning_. She was tempted to deliver the man to Steve's apartment sedated and hog tied but she didn't think either would appreciate it. Plus Sharon would probably report her and Clint's lecture on the difference between acceptable behavior and that of a crazy person rang through her head so she didn't do that.

Then of course shit hit the proverbial fan as it's known to do. James showed up and killed Fury or so they thought. Admittedly when she was standing over Nick's dead body trying not to cry in front of Steve and Maria and feeling how she imagined all the daughters whose fathers she took away felt, telling Steve the truth was the last thing on her mind and the betrayal she felt towards James, however unfair, made her want to carve a bullet hole through him.

When she calmed down and they were driving with Jasper Sitwell in the back running away from her own agency she made up her mind to just tell Steve when they settled in a safehouse and let the chips fall where they may. James took the decision out of her hands entirely when he attacked them and tried very hard to kill both her and Steve along with Sam. She could've shot him when he was on the bridge, she had a head-shot in her sights, but ultimately decided to draw him away from civilians instead. She knew he'd come, he'd been out of cryo enough for some personality to start bleeding through and his anger always came through first. She knew playing cat and mouse with him would provoke him. She doubted anyone ever got that much of a drop on him before so of course he followed her. Having him shoot her again wasn't part of the plan but he could've killed her with one shot no problem, why he didn't she didn't have time to contemplate.

Seeing his face in person again was more shocking than she thought it'd be. Memories were still pouring through her dreams with his face clear as day, she could see pictures and video footage at the Smithsonian any time she wanted but unlike Steve she did not visit the museum again after the opening of the Captain America exhibit but now here he was and he was speaking too.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" He asked rhetorically, he didn't care much for the answer as he pointed the gun in his hand at Steve causing him to flinch back as if he'd been slapped. Natasha felt herself getting ready to call his name, distract him more and hopefully having both names attributed to him would stop him if only to give them time to escape. Sam came flying in then, kicking James out of Steve's path before she said anything. He got back up immediately and Natasha saw his eyes flickering between her and Steve with some confusion and vague recognition. She saw the moment the Winter Soldier won out over whoever was fighting to break through and just as he pointed the gun at Steve with a firmer grip she shot a grenade at the car next to him, knowing he'd dodge it in time but she needed him away. Steve did too even if he didn't know it.

She listened to Steve later on lament about how he failed Bucky, she didn't tell him otherwise because she knew how he felt. There was something in there, something fighting to get out or rather someone so when it was all said and done and Bucky or James, she wasn't sure which, crawled to the surface enough to spare Steve's life and save him from drowning before leaving; her decision to tell Steve made itself. She knew he'd go looking for James, or Bucky rather, and if he wasn't planning on it before she had no problem putting the idea in his head. She got all the information on the Winter Soldier she could from her contacts in Kiev and on a whim typed out everything she could remember about James from their time together. At the end of her own account she typed out an apology to Steve for not telling him. Nothing fancy, just 'I'm sorry'. Then she handed the file to him at Nick's "grave" and left him and Sam to it.

She was tempted to go with them and find James but he needed time alone with his family and she needed time with hers. She looked over briefly to where Nick drove off to while fingering her arrow necklace. When James remembered her, if he did, and if he wanted to see her she'd go to him but she trusted Steve to save him. That point, trusting Steve at least, was never up for debate.


End file.
